Tracy

057:

               

******057:

They skipped the show after dinner at the casino, and giving Bridget and Julian the fondest of farewells, took to their room for the first time as man and wife. It was a honeymoon suite, complete with jungle theme, waterfalls and heart shaped bed with mirrors on the ceiling draped with vines and birds chirping sounds.

Raine tackled her onto the bed, messing the fluffy covers as much as possible with his leap and then rolling on top of her. "In the old me days, this would have been a drinking moment." He smoothed her hair back with a smile.

Tracy swallowed. "Having never known a drinking moment, I can only assume that means you're a little nervous?"

He kissed her deeply, feeling the warmth, the ready willingness. "A little. I've never made love to a wife before."

"I've never made love to a husband." She wrapped her legs around his slim hips and arched provocatively, feeling every bulge and heated bit of him.

He worked her dress up to her waist, and ran a hand down her silky side, groaning. Tracy unbuttoned his shirt, pulled up the undershirt and as he divested her of her dress, felt the cooler air hit her stomach. Raine began kissing her neck, her throat, pulling her breasts to his lips and kissing her through the lacy bra, before unclasping it and tossing it aside.

"I can't wait any longer, Trace."

"Don't then." She whispered as she opened her eyes, skin on skin, satiny smooth trembling, as she gave herself to the man she loved and wanted to be with forever.

Afterward they lay entwined, stroking heat sensitized skin, staring at their reflection in the barely lit mirror above.

"It's going to be so hard to leave you." He twisted a curl and let it bounce back, tasting the sweaty aftermath of sated love.

"I don't know how you'll bear it. I understand that once you're deployed we won't be talking for---."

"Up to six months, hopefully not that long. They do have ship to shore phones and in port, if we get port leave, which I doubt, I could call."

She shrugged delicately, putting her shoulder nearly under his back, as she stroked the firm muscles of his ribcage. "If you could even get me at home or at the studio, but I'll be on location in Alaska in a week---- with two quick hops to Chicago and New York, Atlanta and Pittsburg for shows with the band."

"Speaking of the band. How's Case?"

"Can't talk about it."

"Jolie?"

"Still hanging in there. They think there's a way to save the baby. Some medication and treatment. But it's not likely Jolie will be faithful to the treatments. She doesn't care about the baby. She'd as soon abort, but it's too late, she's almost due."

"Are you going to keep the baby?"

She leaned up to see into his eyes. "You know I am. If he lives."

Raine nodded. "It's weird being a father so suddenly. It feels surreal."

She chuckled. "I would assume so. My feelings about it are all tied up in pain now. In my childhood, Casey was the strongest male figure I had. He was the role model for all future relationships. And not a good one. All my male friendship ideas came from Casey. And even though I love Michael--- he's too close to my age to be a real father influence."

"What about your own father?"

"I didn't meet Ray till I was sixteen, and he already had a wife and kids, and was in the middle of his very successful career. I am basically an unexpected complication. He tries. I'll give him that. He tries. Which is more than I can say for Jerry Nelson, my adoptive father."

"Is he still alive?"

"Oh yes, of course, he is. Drugged out alcoholic that he is, coward. I'll never see him again. He and Ruth divorced when I was seven, I barely knew him. He didn't have many visitations, and when he did, he was more interested in the boys, not the mistake they'd adopted thinking they couldn't have their own kids."

"Ruth is your adoptive mother?"

"In an insane sort of way--- I've been emancipated and disavowed legally any claims she has on me. It's like I was never adopted, and Ray and Lorraine are my actual parents."

"Ruth was terribly abusive?" Raine twisted to see her better, stroking her breast absently, but with interest, how could he not?

She nodded, stroking him back, tickling softly, arousing. "I don't want to talk about it. I have Lorraine, when she ever gets around to being my mom, which she's pretty good at writing and stuff, so we keep in touch."

"She lives in..."

"England. London, England. She's a secretary at a large firm. Someday she plans to come here and be closer to me. She never married or had any other kids. She was a groupie for the Reed Tones, you know. Her parents made her give me up for adoption."

"No, I didn't know that. How very sad. How different your life would have been had she been allowed to keep you. But back in those days, it wasn't always the things, was it?" He kissed her forehead. "It's going to be hard for you once Casey goes. Have you thought about what you're going to do? The press is full of speculation now that the cat's out of the bag. In fact, I wonder why he announced it at all."

"Oh." She sighed. "We talked about it. He just hopes to finish the next three gigs, maybe four. They gave him about that long. Now it's all this historic stuff and lots and lots of AIDS patients are contacting us. I wonder, not for the first time...." She shrugged as if to say it was out of her hands. "I wonder if Casey is using it, like to ...you know, get more publicity. Like a Pepper's Reunion isn't enough by itself. It's kind of morbid, but that's his state of mind. It's like the band is everything. He is using us... me. To him, that's all that matters. He doesn't have any other life. He doesn't love Jolie, he's used her too. His whole attitude is like: why invest any time and energy to her. No one will remember her."

They lay there, digesting those thoughts, drifting off now and then, until they finally slept, woke, made love again, and again. Drifted back to sleep.

The next two days would be spent, talking about their future, renting jet skis and playing around on nearby Lake Las Vegas, making love, hiking the River Mountain Loop Trail and the Bowl of Fire. Making love. Making love... making love.

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